


Someone I Can Trust

by RavenZaphara



Series: Marooned in the Underground [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Death, Directly related to Soul-Searcher, F/F, F/M, It's straight-up pain., M/M, Mages, Multi, Not necessary to read for this to make sense, Other, Pain, Read this if you enjoy crying, Romance, SICT, Sadness, Strife - Freeform, Takes place before monsters were trapped underground, Tears, This has 0 redeeming qualities, War, War Fic, tradgedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7632154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenZaphara/pseuds/RavenZaphara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Centuries ago, humans and monsters held an unsteady truce that slowly degraded. The world over, violence began. The last realm of peace was a corner of the New World. Monsters would flee to this safe haven... but was it actually so safe?</p><p>"Let the Celestials bear witness to our feats!" A war cry.<br/>"If there exists a god who has yet to abandon us... please, keep her safe." A king's prayer.<br/>"Let us speak in hands, my friend." A lover's broken whisper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Drowned Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Be welcome, grab your tissues. 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy these characters as much as I have.
> 
> (This prologue takes place during Chapter 20 of Soul-Searcher. There are no spoilers to it, but for those of you interested)

Grillby knew this battered table well. The acid-eaten pock-marks, scratches, singed handprints that fit his hands perfectly.

He’d been a different man last time he’d seen this table. He’d been a Captain, with a different name. He looked at himself, saw his normal attire change into that of his past. The material was coarse and smelled like summer air.

He knew already that when he looked up he’d regret it. This was a common dream, filled with bittersweet memories. As usual in this dream, he began to forget things. He remembered what it was to be Ghayth, forgot what it meant to be Grillby.

He glanced around at the others sitting with him. Smiling faces of friends who laughed and talked over mugs of crude ale. These were friends older than the hatred that tore them all apart.

The two dragons, Pyric and Torbernite, were laughing uproariously and prodding at Asgore’s uninjured shoulder, teasing him. Asgore had taken the brunt of a beating in the last battle, but his troop survived. He was still wracked with guilt over the lives lost in other battles he’d commanded. But right now, his friend was drinking in celebration of living. Celebration of surviving yet another futile battle against the humans.

The only reason he’d been drinking at all was because the others had pestered him into it. “You’re alive!” Torbernite had said. “Act like it, would you?!” Now, though, Ghayth noticed Torbernite taunting Asgore in an entirely different subject. Ghayth remembered their words, but their voices were lost to time. He could see their mouths move, but…

Next to the dragon Pyric was a tall, slender skeleton with jagged features and an unforgiving feeling to her. Ghayth knew better. Adilet was simply quiet and didn’t know how to approach people. She was a natural warrior, though, and she’d proved it. She, Pyric, and Ghayth were of a mind that actions were sometimes much more important than words.

Zorion, Adilet’s sibling, sat next to her, turned toward the two spider monsters, Jiyu and Toya. Ghayth could see and understand the small, significant look that passed between Jiyu and Zorion, though when he first saw this scene in his youth, he’d no idea. He’d been just as clueless as Adilet, perhaps more so.

Torbernite hoisted Asgore up and walked him out of the mess hall. Ghayth felt himself wave. Pyric was slogged, on the verge of passing out on the table. Adilet sat stiffly, but Ghayth could see the flicker of concern on her face for the red dragon.

Toya refused the drink offered to him by Zorion and excused himself to go check on his niece. Ghayth remembered the tiny child that Toya and Jiyu took care of, and how they’d latched onto Zorion so firmly. Jiyu had named Zorion a god parent to the little spider girl.

Ghayth felt his face grow colder with memory.

The dream remembered, too, and Ghayth refused to look up. He knew all he’d see was dust.

Ghayth realized that, now that Asgore was dead… he was the last of them. He was the last living member of their group.

He’d survived too many friends. His hands were flat on the table, leaving scorch-marks. The memory of rain, of lightning across the skies. The open fields filled with dust and… He could remember the corpses under his feet, the bandolier across his otherwise bare chest.

 _Bandolier?_ He’d never remembered that detail before. He felt himself standing, and he didn’t look away quickly enough to avoid seeing the piles of dust around him. His body carried him down a path that was at once painfully familiar and uncomfortably foreign.

There shouldn’t be anything this way. The corridors were dark save for the light he gave off, casting flickering shadows over yet more piles of dust. Though he didn’t know where he was going, his body moved with confidence, albeit woodenly.

A grand set of doors loomed ahead. The look of those doors brought a feeling to his gut, to his soul, that made him quicken his pace. He threw the doors open roughly.

 _Let us speak in hands, my friend._ It was his own voice, but he couldn’t remember saying those words. That phrase meant something. There was so much emotion behind it, tied up in it. There were touches that he didn’t feel, breaths against his body that were real but not. That phrase was important, and he had no idea why.

The room was empty, and Ghayth thought for a moment as the doors banged open that he heard a gasp and the clatter of broken glass. Something was missing in here. His stomach ached, his head pounded. Had he seen a shadow in here or was it a trick of his light dancing across the dusty counters, reflecting off the jars and implements?

He was in control of his actions now, he realized. He walked in, leaving the door open as if expecting it to close itself. The room was barren of life other than his own presence. There was no glass, no sign of disturbance. The room felt painfully empty.

Whatever it was that he was forgetting, whatever it was that was trying to make itself known to him, it was doing nothing but making him dizzy. He went to his haunches to minimize injury if he fell over. Whatever-- _who_ ever-- this was, he needed them. He was hurting for the memory, craving it. Unstable, Ghayth fell onto his behind, his legs sprawling in front of him on the dusty floor. The stone was cold and unforgiving, the chill cutting through his clothes.

He swore he could feel touches, feather-light, along his back. He could almost hear a familiar but unknown voice at his ear. It was drowned out with the overwhelming buzz of static that always accompanied this dream. This memory.

“It’s less painful to forget me, old friend.” The voice whispered to him.

He could hear him! The triumph was outweighed by the intense pain throbbed in his temples.

“Quit trying to remember me. I am gone.”

Ghayth ignored him, focusing on his voice, focusing on his touch.

“Please. Trust me, this is not what you want!” The arms around him tightened and he could feel them. Oddly enough, the memory of a smell cut through this memory as old as death. Antiseptic, soap, chlorinated water.

Ghayth smiled and sank against the incorporeal form of the person who was at once stranger and former lover. “Win…” He almost had the name, didn’t he? He was so close to it…

The feeling of arms dissipated. He could feel himself falling through the cold stone floor. Was he dusting at last?

He could be content with that. Centuries upon centuries of existing just for the sake of existing… only to fall to the memory of…

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t remember a gods-damned thing. Why was he sitting behind the bar with a bottle of top-shelf liquor practically drained next to him?

Just as Grillby had given way to Ghayth, the djinn tossed away his past in favor of the ~~emptiness~~ peace of his present.


	2. Of Caves and Tactics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, don't get attached to any of these characters. Any. Of. Them.
> 
> Meet Ghayth, Galen, Asgore, Toriel, Torbernite, Winoc, Zorion, Adilet, Faustus, and the King and Queen.
> 
> And humans. Let's meet some humans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for this chapter to be significantly shorter, but it just drug on forever. I just... had to cut it off.
> 
> This will, in all likelihood, be the average chapter size. Be prepared for pain to come.

“Tiny Scarf, you’re choking me.” Ghayth spoke softly to the child whose arms were wrapped tightly around his throat. “Agh! I don’t want to accidentally singe your fur.”

Toriel, age twelve, only giggled as Ghayth went to his knees, choking out a laugh in response.

“What’s going on?” A burly young tortoise monster waded through the tall grass to find Ghayth trying to pry the young monarch’s arms from his throat as gently as he dared. Suffice to say he wasn’t making any headway.

“Galen, have you seen Asgore? He was charged with guarding Tiny Scarf, wasn’t he?”

“Noo!” Toriel cried out, squeezing the breath out of the kind fire djinn.

Galen let out a whooping laugh that was at once irritating and endearing. Ghayth simply sat and waited as Galen regaled them both on the rumors he’d heard from the other off-duty Royal Guards. It seemed Galen had come out here to find Ghayth and drag him back to partake in some kind of task.

“Galen, I hate to cut you off, but we really must return the princess to the Foothold. If you would be so kind?”

Again, Toriel restricted his breathing and firmly spoke to him. “I don’t wanna go!”

In defeat, the young guard reached over his head, hoisting her over him and holding her upside down. Luckily she was wearing breeches and a wool tunic, rather than the robes she usually wore in the Foothold. “Princess Scarf, you must remember my job is to make sure you’re safe. I am sincerely flattered you enjoy my company so, but Asgore is the one who is supposed to watch you today.”

Galen shrugged. “I’ll be with Toya and Jiyu when you finally pull away.”

Ghayth sighed. Toriel giggled and held her arms out, as if asking for a hug. “Is it because I am warm?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“You talk funny.” She answered. “Mommy said you’re delightful!”

Ghayth flushed, his flames turning blue around his face. The Queen herself?! “Did she really?”

“She also said you look amazing when you train with the others.” Toriel said, still not seeming to be affected by hanging upside down.

Ghayth nearly dropped the child. _The Queen herself?!_ “Are you sure, tiny one? Perhaps she spoke instead about Asgore?” He so hoped the child had misheard. At least Asgore was a goat monster like they were. He couldn’t imagine the _Queen_ favoring him.

“No, she thinks you’re pretty.” Toriel insisted. “You are! Especially when you turn blue like that!” She was pointing at his blushing flames now, and he finally snapped to himself.

He flipped her around so that she was no longer upside down, and she dizzily looked up at him. “I am flattered, young Scarf.”

“Princess Toriel!” A distant voice called.

“Took him long enough.” Ghayth grumbled. “Over here, Asgore!”

“Ghayth?” Asgore sounded puzzled, approaching the voice to find his friend holding the princess like a sack of potatoes. “Ghayth! What are you doing?!” Ghayth couldn’t help but be amused by his abject horror at his child-carrying methods.

Ghayth set the indignantly squirming child on her feet. “See why I ran off? He’s so… boring!” She looked over at Asgore and stuck her tongue out at him. Asgore actually appeared distressed. Toriel looked up at Ghayth again and grumbled. “He won’t let me have fun.”

“As far as I know, he behaves the exact way that I do when I’m on duty, Tiny Scarf.” Ghayth put his hands on his hips and stared down at the child who pouted insolently. He glanced over at Asgore with crackling flames dancing on his skin. “What is this really about?”

Toriel looked at Asgore and her face squished up in revulsion. “He looks kinda like Dad, only less cool.”

Ghayth couldn’t help but laugh, and had to place a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise.

Asgore was touching his horns in dismay. Ghayth knew the monster’s horns had grown in relatively late and weren’t nearly as impressive as others’. In fact, in his youth, he’d been picked on a lot by others of his kind. He’d had to toughen up to withstand it—and by the time Ghayth had met him, he was quite renowned among the Guard for his endurance and ability to face obstacles without backing down.

Of course, Ghayth had instantly taken a liking to the kindly goat monster. Having arrived from overseas with a huddle of other monsters, Ghayth had sought out the largest city of monsters in Ebott—the Foothold. Upon arriving, he was asked to join the Guard, and seeing as how it would give him a home and three meals a day, he took the offer gladly.

“Ghayth, will you help me?” Asgore asked timidly, nodding toward the insolent princess. “She won’t go with me.”

Ghayth sighed again and nodded. “Admittedly, I have nothing inherently better to do. Galen was telling me about some new arrival. What have you heard?”

Asgore shook his head. “I’ve been too busy looking for the little runaway.”

“That’s no way to talk about your princess!” Toriel yelled, throwing a small stone at Asgore’s head. It bounced harmlessly off of his floppy ear. It twitched and he scratched at it.

Ghayth offered Toriel a piggyback ride, mostly because it would keep her from throwing more rocks, but also so they could move faster.

“Ghayth, why do you like him?” Toriel asked quietly.

“He’s very kind.” Ghayth replied truthfully. “And loyal. You will never find a more resolute friend.”

Asgore was listening in. Toriel hadn’t exactly mastered whispering yet, and Ghayth wasn’t exactly trying to hide their conversation, either. The goat monster blushed, pleased that his friend felt that way.

The promenade ahead was filled with monsters of all shapes and sizes. Normally, hundreds of monsters along with a few handfuls of humans, would be bustling through here, sharing news, and sometimes wares. Today was a quiet day, with only a few dozen standing around, most of them members of the Guard.

The main structure beyond the Promenade bore the name Foothold. It was the last truly great city the monsters could call their own. Humans had been pushing them around the continent for a while now, and the monsters, outgunned at best, complied almost eagerly. Every few months, a party from other countries would arrive and seek the Foothold’s comforting walls. The new arrivals had become less and less lately, and from the haunted appearances on the refugees’ faces…

“Torby!” Toriel called out excitedly at the sight of the stocky bipedal dragon man. He jolted and ran forward. If Ghayth was Toriel’s favorite Guardsman, Torbernite was a close second. He wore a full suit of modified armor at all times, complete with worn leather gloves and a scarf to cover his neck fully. Even his tail was wrapped so that it couldn’t be directly touched. Much like the stone he was named after, Torbernite was poisonous.

Just as Ghayth had to constantly control his own fire, if Torbernite didn’t will his magic to behave, he could easily poison someone with a touch. Likewise, he could command his blood, spit, or tears to become acidic. His wings were useless, riddled with holes from incidents where he’d mistakenly sneezed acid onto them. Tables, chairs, nothing was immune. Torbernite himself had a natural resistance but it only did so much if he wasn’t careful.

Despite his obvious need for personal space, he was the most amiable creature Ghayth had ever met. It still shocked him to know that dragons existed at all, and angered him to consider just how many as sweet as this one had been slaughtered out of fear.

“Ah! If it isn’t the cutest little girl in all of Foothold!” He cooed, toothy grin somehow looking sweet despite all the razor sharp teeth that shined with poisonous fluids. “With how often I see you with Ghayth, here, I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll have a fiery king, one day!” Ghayth shoved the oaf playfully. “Agh! Ghayth, please, you wound me! Don’t be so **hot-headed**!”

Asgore groaned, but he was smiling, too. Torbernite was almost infamous for his terrible sense of humor. The princess seemed to really enjoy it, and so he was always stationed in the Foothold. The king and queen wanted the princess to have Guardsmen she trusted and loved around her at all times. “Torb, have you by chance any news?” Ghayth asked, ignoring the pun as best as he could with Toriel giggling wildly into his ear.

“Oh, yes! So there were more monsters from the Old World.” He said it excitedly. He’d been born on this continent, and always remarked on how he wished he could have seen the other lands. Considering that Dragons were once vilified to extinction, it was a dream that would be dangerous to follow, regardless of present hostilities.

“It’s not so special as to require such treatment.” Ghayth reminded. “It’s just a different patch of dirt with different humans.”

Torbernite just shrugged. “If you say so, **hot stuff**. Anyway, these new guys are really weird looking, and the eldest one is older than the king by more than three hundred years!”

That was quite a feat, Ghayth mused. “Yes, so what business do they have with their Majesties?”

Asgore was paying close attention, now, too. Torbernite chuckled, his eyes darting to Ghayth’s giggling scarf. “Why would I know? I’m just a sentry who was greeted by the world’s most adorable princess.” He reached out with his gloved hands and ruffled Toriel’s hair. She squealed in delight.

Asgore spoke now. “We need to go deliver the princess to the dining hall. In case she manages to give me the slip again, please keep an eye out.”

Torbernite nodded. “Understood.” His face took a serious expression. “And the two of you… be careful. We’ve…” He looked at Toriel. “On your way out, please go talk to Pyric.”

That wasn’t a good sign, Asgore and Ghayth noted, exchanging worried glances. As they walked away, Toriel spoke up. “Hey, tomorrow, I’m gonna ask Dad if I can watch you train in the Courtyard!”

“He’s said no before.” Ghayth reminded her.

“There’s always tomorrow!” She said stubbornly. It was one of the most endearing and yet frustrating things about this child. She was immensely tenacious, intensely optimistic… she didn’t know how to take no for an answer. Perhaps that went hand in hand with being born into royalty, but at least she wasn’t so spoiled that to go against her was to make her an enemy.

Ghayth was certain that she was the most harmless creature in the world. He hoped that would never change. He had experienced some simply _lovely_ things before moving to Foothold, and had seen child monsters have to fight for their lives… He never wanted this child, his Tiny Scarf, to face that kind of danger.

Asgore led the way into the dining hall where the King and Queen awaited their daughter’s presence. Upon their entrance, however, Ghayth realized they had interrupted some sort of discussion. At the table were four monsters unlike anything Ghayth had seen. They appeared to be in the image of human skeletons, and they exuded a grace and sense of power that made the two Guardsmen fear that their uncouth entrance would offend them.

The obvious leader of the skeleton monsters stood, and the other three followed suit. They were dressed entirely in white, giving them an even more otherworldly appearance. The leader, however, wore an overcoat of darkened charcoal over his garb, clasped with threads of what appeared to be metal.

He had a finger missing from each hand, and in the crown of his skull, a perfect circle was missing from the bone. He was also tall, with proportions of a nightmare creature, joints where joints shouldn’t be. His jaws were permanently sealed shut, his teeth pointing outward like jagged spikes and his eye sockets widened to an astounding effect. Ghayth realized he could reach into this creature’s skull through his eye, though he felt that it would be a terrible idea.

The tiny princess squeezed Ghayth’s throat. “Scary.” She whispered. Secretly, Ghayth had to agree.

“Greetings.” The eldest one spoke, his voice barely a whisper, and yet it came from all directions. This was the power of great age, Ghayth realized. He was using his magic to speak, and he had such an excess of it—and to have such control over it, too… And with every word, whisps of smoke exuded from the hole in his head. “You must be the princess Toriel.”

She whimpered and squeezed Ghayth tighter. He tried to stay silent, but accidentally let out a choking noise.

“That’s quite enough, dear.” The Queen said softly, standing up to approach them.

The King looked to the skeleton monsters. “These are her favorite Guardsmen. And mine, personally. Might they join us? They might know more about the land around here and could help better than I.”

The elder skeleton nodded and a hissing laughter sent a chill up Ghayth’s spine. He could see that everyone else’s fur was on edge. He was glad he wasn’t the only one unnerved.

“Introductions.” He said. “I am Faustus.” He bowed deeply and respectfully, but the effect just sent more chills as his plethora of joints that Should Not Be bent in ways that made Ghayth feel ill. “These are my children.”

“Adilet.” The tallest (aside from Faustus himself) of the skeleton’s bowed deeply and straightened, standing in a way reminiscent of militaristic mannerisms. Ghayth had the distinct feeling of being sized up when her sockets sought his eyes. She was entirely composed of harsh lines, pointed edges. She looked like a weapon, and her sockets betrayed a glimmer of intelligence behind her stoic and silent countenance.

“Zorion.” The smiling skeleton nodded respectfully but didn’t move otherwise. There was an air of comfort to this one, Ghayth thought. It looked like their skull had been evenly sliced toward the top, leaving a black line less than a third through their brow. They were shorter than Ghayth by perhaps a foot and their sockets were occupied by strange shapes that were quite enjoyable to look at.

A note of fondness reached Faustus’s voice as he named the last. “And Winoc.” The obviously youngest skeleton stood straight, hands folded behind his back. He merely stood, observing the two Guardsmen and their princess charge absently, eyes focused on them, but attention obviously elsewhere.

Toriel dropped from Ghayth’s back and took her mother’s hand, hiding behind her, peering out at the monsters she was obviously afraid of. Asgore and Ghayth bowed respectfully and the queen spoke for them. “My daughter, Toriel.” She gestured to the hiding princess. “And her personal Guardsmen, Asgore and Ghayth.”

Faustus appeared satisfied with the introductions. “Shall we get back to this lovely tea, then? We have much to discuss.” The King invited. Toriel insisted on sitting between Asgore and Ghayth, and so, when everyone got relatively comfortable, Faustus motioned to the one named Winoc.

The youth spoke, his voice smooth and very pleasant, though deeper than Ghayth had expected. “When we arrived, the first humans we encountered took our belongings. Adilet tracked them, but as she was outnumbered, she was forced to retreat. However, she gathered some interesting information.”

“Go on.” The King prompted when Winoc looked at the young princess as if he were unsure if he should continue.

“Yes, sir. The humans are intending to attack Foothold. They are going to start setting up hidden camps as soon as the rains stop.” He paused again before continuing, tone colder, more distant. “They mentioned using any leverage they could manage to drive monsters into submission.”

Ghayth seethed, but tried to keep it under control.

The king massaged his temples. “They’ve been watching us.”

The youth nodded. “It was heavily implied that they would capture a member of the royal family—I can only assume they meant the princess, as she is the one who leaves Foothold most frequently.”

Asgore made a noise in his throat that sounded like a whine. Ghayth was petrified, too. She had just been outside the walls, playing get-away from her guard. What if she’d been taken today? What would have happened if she hadn’t found him training and decided to play with him instead of continuing to run around? Ghayth tried to drink the tea but it boiled as it reached his face and he finally gave up when he realized that he would end up blackening the cup if he tried to drink from it.

The king sighed and looked to the princess who had shrunk in her seat to make herself as small as possible. “Toriel… You understand this, yes?”

She only nodded.

The queen was hiding behind her hands. “We’ve been trying our best to avoid a war…”

The elder, Faustus, spoke again. “While you’ve been cowering, they’ve been surrounding you with the intent to erase you. It was the same where we came from. As far as we know, there are few if any monsters remaining in the Old Land.”

The queen’s eyes darted to Ghayth, and he nodded so slightly. The king hitched his eyebrow. “Ghayth?”

“The choice we were given was leave or die. Those who chose to stay went into hiding, but I’m not sure if any of them remain.”

The elder looked at Ghayth and smiled. “Ahh, I recognize that speech.” He sounded genuinely pleased, as if savoring a forgotten taste of ages past. “I must ask, your Majesty. Is there a place for my sons and I in your court? We are willing to help you prepare for this threat. Adilet would work well in your army.”

“Guard.” The queen corrected absently.

“Regardless. Adilet is a lovely fighter, and can bring many new skills to your army, having trained in a different land. As for myself, Zorion, and Winoc, we could work on setting up an intelligence network.”

“Are you suggesting we spy on the humans?” The king asked bitterly. “That would be disastrous!”

Winoc shook his head and spoke up, startling the king and queen. “If I may politely disagree with you, Majesty.” The room’s attention focused back on the young skeleton. “To let the humans gather against you, you run the risk of losing your home, your people, and having no way to combat it or save even a single Soul.

"By sending scouts out, you not only gain the advantage of knowledge where it is needed most, but also the casualties are statistically smaller. One or two scouts’ lives weighed against the thousands of monsters taking refuge in Foothold right now—it will be well worth the price if it works. In either event, war is inevitable.”

The king put his head in his hands. Faustus smiled proudly at Winoc. “Do think on it, your Highness. We just do not want to lose the only remaining hope for a home we have.” He looked at his sons, and then to the princess, sandwiched between her very pale Guardsmen. “However, if I may speak to you alone for a moment, Majesties?”

Winoc grimaced and stood before anyone else did. He walked to the door and held it open as his siblings shuffled past him, their bones creaking and clacking together as they moved. The sound made Ghayth cringe internally. The princess took Ghayth’s hand in one of hers, and, to his surprise, Asgore’s in the other. Together, they walked out of the door. Winoc shut the door quietly behind him and stared at the trio silently for a moment.

Nasrin, a wolf monster sentry, bowed to the princess and offered her hand. Tori glanced at Ghayth and Asgore with wide eyes before walking off. Nasrin nodded somberly to Ghayth and Asgore and guided the child off to where she would be fed and asked to nap.

Winoc watched the child retreat before turning back to the Guardsmen. “What they are talking about in there… My father is failing. He has been using far too much energy to do the simplest tasks. There is only so much further he can go without moving on, and he is trying his hardest to set my siblings and me up to where we will be taken care of long after his departure.”

Asgore and Ghayth exchanged glances. So he hadn’t been using that much power to intimidate them? It made sense now. However, Ghayth was amazed for another reason. “Natural death?”

Winoc gave a curt nod. “The reason I’m telling you this, is because it will become immensely important that the two of you work with me. The king spoke highly of the both of you, and Adilet certainly saw the promise in you, writ upon your souls… In this world, I need someone I can trust, and between the two of you, I’m hoping that it will be enough.”

 

* * *

 

The three skeletons followed Ghayth and Asgore through the fields around the Foothold. Untamed forests, a deep lake set in the basin of a grassy plain, and to the south was the Mount. The Mount was one of the only places humans had failed to conquer—even the Monsters had been reluctant to build the Foothold at the foot of the volcanic mountain… but they weren’t exactly given much option.

It must have been too much trouble for the humans to just throw them into the volcano and be done with it.

Adilet and Winoc scanned the area and made remarks to Zorion. Neither Asgore nor Ghayth could understand what these conversations were—surely they were speaking a different language. Zorion had two pairs of spectral hands working on two separate tasks. One was taking a vivid written account of whatever was going on in his head and everything he heard. The other hands were at work making a physical map and sketching out the lines that Adilet was sounding out to Winoc.

They were working on theories for traps and caches, if Ghayth surmised correctly.

The following three days were spent much the same way, surveying a different direction every time. The last day, though, as they were mapping out the plains around and beyond the lake, Adilet brought everyone up short, and then made a noise of panic. Zorion and Winoc disappeared, and Adilet drew her weapon, a battle axe nearly as impressive in size as she. Ghayth and Asgore followed suit, drawing their standard spears and shields.

Ghayth spoke just loud enough for the other two to hear. “There’s a small cave accessible from the lake. We’ll have to be quick to access it. Please trust me, Adilet. Asgore?”

“Ready.” He said.

The three of them sprinted off. From the forest line to either side of them, humans rushed out.

The overlook to the lake was just a bit away, and they’d be able to plummet into the water and follow ghayth. This would be dangerous, but not in a way that either of them would know.

Ghayth threw himself off the ledge and dropped toward the water, casting away his weapons and diving, steeling himself…

The other two followed suit with only the briefest hesitation. When they hit the water, they looked around for ghayth, not seeing him at first until he surfaced with a roaring hiss of steam. His clothes were gone, and--

There was no time to ask why he was purple.

He led the way beneath the overhang of land, into the cave nestled in the rock wall. He walked confidently, ploddingly, the water not hindering his movements. Once on a relatively dry surface in the cave, he curled up and let out a low growl. Already his flames were beginning to inch back to their natural hue.

“Does it… hurt?” Asgore asked at last.

Ghayth shook his head. He couldn’t explain it very well. He just… felt more impulsive and his thoughts were scrambled at the moment.

Adilet observed Ghayth cautiously before approaching. “Now what do we do?” She asked bitterly.

Asgore looked around. “I didn’t know this was here.”

The cave looked like it was made of glass. At last, Ghayth spoke. “I cleared it out a few days ago.”

The two other monsters stared at the djinn. Adilet cleared her throat. “Explain?”

“After I heard about what the humans were planning, I decided this might… be a useful area. I was going to bring it up, I promise.”

Adilet looked around again. “There are no stalactites and the walls look fire-treated.”

“I’ve been using this as a training area for months. When I… react to water, I can become violent. This area was a perfect place to let my aggressions out.”

Asgore and Adilet exchanged looks. She massaged her brow roughly. “I have to contact my siblings, pardon me.”

Asgore sat down next to Ghayth, who had entirely returned to his rich, comforting color. “You’re okay, right? Water doesn’t bother you?” He paused. “Just… makes you… angry?”

Ghayth laughed a bit. “I’m fine. Water doesn’t harm me, just… awakens me, I suppose.” He looked at his friend. “Where I was born, rain-- water in general, actually-- it was a rare occurrence. I was born during a year of great storms. Destructive water, floods. You get it. It was a tradition to my family to derive natural forces into the naming of children.”

“I don’t think I follow.” Asgore admitted sheepishly.

“Ghayth means ‘rain’. I was named for destruction, and either by their magic or simple irony… it is very fitting.”

Come to think of it, Asgore realized that Ghayth always stayed inside during rain. No one questioned it, probably on the assumption that water would harm him.

Ghayth was much more dangerous than any of them had realized, apparently.

Ghayth and Asgore noticed a change in the air pressure behind them and both of them turned to look for Adilet.

Her hands were glowing and her palms were to the air. As Ghayth and Asgore looked on curiously, there was a pulsation around Adilet, and Winoc and Zorion appeared, their palms held to where the three of them made a circle.

Zorion and Adilet began speaking in that odd language again and Winoc approached the guards. "What’s going on? Where is this?"

Adilet motioned Asgore over to her and Zorion. With a last look at Ghayth, Asgore complied.

Winoc stared at Ghayth for a moment before realizing the djinn was entirely naked and then made a point to not let his gaze wander, though there was certainly the hint of errant magic on his face showing that he was embarrassed.

Ghayth sighed. "Water ruins my clothes." He explained. Winoc’s look of curiosity broadened but he reigned himself in as Ghayth began to explain the circumstances and what they were up against.

"We’re outnumbered by at least ten humans." He said. "However the two of you got back here, is that a viable means of escape back to Foothold?”

Winoc shook his head. “We reported back to Father and King Dreemur. It would be incredibly difficult, perhaps dangerous, to try to transport you and... Asgore with the three of us.” He seemed to have trouble remembering names.

“All three of you can do it?” Ghayth stuck to important details for now. That trick they had could be tactically advantageous to their escape. He said as much, but Winoc still refused to respond. Ghayth dropped the issue.

“In any case, Zorion and I can do very little in this situation other than bring you weapons.”

Ghayth shook his head. “Not necessary. Our standard weapons were lost, but we still have our own.”

Winoc looked intrigued. “Isn’t that a strict policy?”

“Between living and death, the policy is useless.” Ghayth said. “And Asgore and I have trained together with both our standard-issue as well as our Manifests. I would suggest Adilet do the same.”

She overheard this and came forward. “You doubt my ability to use my own magic offensively?”

“Not at all. But to you know how to use it in conjuction as a team?”

She blinked at him for a moment. She and Winoc shared a glance and she cleared her throat. “You’re wasted as a guard. I’ll be asking the king to switch you to Pyric’s squadron.”

Ghayth could do little but nod.

Asgore and Zorion came forth now. "What’s our plan?" Asgore asked and after a moment, Ghayth realized everyone was looking to him for answers.

Ghayth pushed himself to his feet and led everyone deeper into the small cave. "Remember that alcove that Tiny Scarf got trapped in last summer?" Ghayth asked his friend.

"What about it?"

"The reason I found this place at all was because I explored that alcove." He gestured into the shadows and light refracted on the glassy stone, sending shards of light scattering into the shaft. "I’ve explored most of this system. This area connected to the lake is a recent discovery, but the rest I’ve known about for close to a year.”

Zorion moved forward, the extra hands appearing to map out the area. Winoc let out a breath behind Ghayth. “Can you light it up again?”

He did so, assuming it was for note-taking. Winoc let another sigh as the light caught on the stones. Dust floated on in the disturbed air, seeming to glitter from the reflections. “It’s… amazing.”

Asgore sighed and stepped forward. Ghayth grabbed his shoulder and shoved him backward. “Please everyone watch your step! This area is naturally trapped. Follow my steps precisely, or you’ll risk falling through the ground. Or stepping on something unpleasant.”

Asgore looked at his bare feet and winced. “Right.”

“Lead the way, then.” Adilet said grumpily. “Winoc, Zorion. Perhaps you should go back to the Foothold?”

Winoc shook his head. “There is much to be observed here. Pardon me, but you said this leads back to the Foothold?”

He nodded. “Close. I will be stopping occasionally to check enemy movements.”

Zorion arched a browbone curiously and pointed up. “How do you intend to do that, they’re up there?” Asgore smiled at his tone, but Ghayth just motioned for everyone to stay where they were. Ghayth turned to the nearest rock wall and dug into it with his hands. Entirely bared, he hugged the wall and climbed it, somehow able to make footholds and handholds easily enough.

Everyone politely looked away.

He reached toward the top, and his light revealed an opening, a small perch up there, which he took to. He motioned for silence, and then there was the sound of rock scraping on rock. Light flooded the small perch, barely reaching the darkness where the other four monsters stood warily.

Ghayth peeked out and with relief noted that there were no humans in the area.

In fact, he could see them beyond, scouting the clearing, searching for them. He and Asgore could likely pick them off-- but that would set things in motion early, wouldn’t they?

To start this war, he’d need consent of the king. He didn’t want to start it any sooner than necessary. He pulled himself back into the trap and shimmied out of the tiny enclosure. He hopped down, landing roughly but unscathed. “We should move on.” He said. “Follow closely and we’ll get back before they’ve even left the plains.”

Ghayth kept the area well lit, since in actuality he couldn’t see for anything in the dark. His vision was flawless as long as he was observing within his own range. Luckily, he knew this area well enough that they made good time, even on the occasions he stopped to point out other such ledges for Zorion to mark down. Winoc asked questions about the area, about the stone, about all kinds of things that Ghayth honestly didn’t know or care about.

He said about as much, as politely as he could. Adilet let out a huff of amusement. It was the most emotion she had shown in the time Ghayth had seen her.

Zorion and Asgore were talking up a storm. Zorion, it seemed, had had a passion for flora back in their home. He was regaling Asgore on the beauty of so many species of plants that simply wouldn’t flourish on this continent. Asgore laughed and said that there was surely a way to grow things in just about any conditions, with a bit of magic and care.

The path had been uphill, steep at some points, and Asgore was certainly getting out of breath. At last, they reached the other end of the shaft and Ghayth motioned for them to be quiet and still. He motioned Adilet forward and pointed to the alcove where the princess had “discovered” this system of caves. Adilet observed the area and helped Ghayth push the heavy stone away from the opening, just enough for them all to get through.

The light of the sun was overwhelming, but Ghayth, at least, welcomed it. The sunset was beautiful right here, he mused. He would have to come back here another day to observe it in better circumstances.

With a sinking feeling, he wondered if there would ever be better circumstances after today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this project as well as a couple others that I'm working on are depressing the absolute hell outta me, I've started a Fluff Fic as well. It will probably update about as much as this fic, since... well... I need to balance out the misery somehow.
> 
> I am EXTREMELY open to hearing what you think about these characters. Trust me, they'll feel a lot more natural the further into the story we get.  
> Tell me what quirks you can see already in the skeletons that perhaps Sans and Papyrus have. Tell me your headcanons on these characters.
> 
> And get ready for more pain, more development... and some eventual Grillster.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this very personal story. I was afraid to upload it, so if you enjoyed it please tell me. It will certainly make it easier for me to put more of it out.
> 
> One thing I love more than anything else are THEORIES. Tell me what you think about my characters, tell me how you think they affect the world even centuries after the war. Tell me your headcanons, tell me who you love/hate!


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